Becoming the Yandere Omega's Fluffy Pet - Chapter 55 

Chapter 55

Liu Ran’s problems started after she began going to school.

Ming Siyu had Secretary Wen investigate who Liu Ran had met recently at school and what she had done.

As for the suspension, since Liu Ran was in this state, there was indeed no need for her to continue going. A call was made to the college, and Liu Ran’s classes were suspended for a month.

Liu Ran, who usually had a great appetite, did not come out for dinner in the evening.

Qi Zhen boldly asked Ming Siyu if she should call her out to eat a few more times.

Ming Siyu, annoyed, tossed her chopsticks onto the table. “If she doesn’t want to eat, forget it. I’ve pampered her too much.”

Accustomed to sleeping while holding a fluffy wolf tail, Ming Siyu felt a bit awkward lying alone on the vast, empty bed.

Habit truly is a terrifying thing.

In the end, she found a random plush toy to hold in her arms. Since Liu Ran was unwilling to speak, Ming Siyu could only wait for Secretary Wen to investigate what happened at school before making a judgment.

She didn’t go to work either. When Liu Ran came out of her bedroom the next morning, she had heavy dark circles under her eyes; clearly, she hadn’t slept well last night.

However, her attitude had improved.

Liu Ran had thought all night and still couldn’t figure out what she should do now. She could only maintain the status quo for the time being.

The only thing that could give her comfort was believing what Ming Siwei said—that Shen Yunhe’s death was indeed an accident, and Ming Siyu had merely threatened her.

After this thought surfaced, Liu Ran wanted to laugh at herself.

She was actually still making excuses for Ming Siyu in her subconscious. At the same time, she realized with sadness that she had fallen in love with a woman with a heart like a scorpion.

If there were only Ming Siwei’s one-sided story, she would still suspect if Ming Siwei was lying to her; after all, the two sisters had a long-standing grudge. Although Ming Siwei usually acted very well toward Ming Siyu and followed her lead, maybe it was an act, and she was harboring some ill will in her heart, throwing dirty water on Ming Siyu.

But the wife of the fall guy had also pointed the finger at Ming Siyu.

She had specifically asked the woman who “President Ming” actually was, holding onto a sliver of hope that it was Ming Siwei or some other Ming family relative—anyone but Ming Siyu.

But she still got the result she least wanted.

The electric chainsaw used to saw the door yesterday was just lying in the living room. Liu Ran went to put it away. “When did you buy this?”

The image of Ming Siyu holding an electric chainsaw to saw a door overturned her perception.

She thought with a chill in her heart that Ming Siyu was truly capable of doing anything.

“The day I gave you your room key.”

Ming Siyu spoke the truth on purpose.

She knew that any date would do. But she just wanted to tell Liu Ran that buying this chainsaw was specifically to deal with her. Did she think a door lock could lock up secrets? She was dreaming.

A master is a master; what did it matter if there was no key? She had the power to saw the door.

She wanted to see Liu Ran’s reaction even more.

Liu Ran only gave a faint smile. “I’ve put it in the storage room.”

At that moment, Ming Siyu almost wanted to kill Liu Ran.

A day later, Liu Ran went to work. Since she couldn’t go to school, there were still things at the company waiting for her to handle.

When she saw Secretary Lin, Secretary Lin touched her face with exaggerated concern. “My goodness, what’s wrong with you? Those dark circles are heavy enough to hang oil bottles.” Then she gave a lewd smile. “How are things with you and President Ming lately? Are they particularly harmonious?”

Talk about hitting a sore spot. Liu Ran squeezed out a very forced smile. “I’m going to the team for a bit.”

Fine, understood—she’s had a fight with President Ming.

She hurried to catch up: “Oh, it’s normal for couples to have conflicts. If there’s something to say, just clear it up. I’m telling you, President Ming is someone who responds to soft persuasion but not hard pressure. If you act cute, play the victim, or pretend to be pitiable, President Ming’s heart will surely soften…”

Liu Ran thought to herself, If only things could be cleared up.

She was much freer at the company than at the Ming Group; she was more familiar with it, and her authority was greater. Liu Ran took the time to look at projects and financial reports from several years ago and found that it was indeed as Ming Siwei said—the company had a failed investment in a resort island project that lost a lot of money. During that time, capital was extremely tight, and they almost couldn’t keep operating. Once bitten, twice shy; since then, Ming Siyu had become much more cautious in investment and never invested too much in a single project.

She asked Secretary Lin, “How many years have you been with the company?”

Secretary Lin was very proud: “I came in the second year it was founded.”

“Then do you still remember that failed man-made resort island investment project from back then?”

Secretary Lin not only remembered it but also had a deep impression of it.

“…The company almost went under. It was just bad luck; the prospects looked great when we invested, and it was in cooperation with the government. Then suddenly they said land reclamation wasn’t allowed anymore, so it’s still an unfinished project sitting there. That year, the company only invested in this one project.”

“What happened later? I saw a compensation payment come in afterward.”

“The compensation was a matter for the second year, and it wasn’t much money. We were all quite anxious, and President Ming was too. But she knew it was useless for us to be anxious with her, so she found a way to raise a sum of money herself. President Ming worked very hard that year; she lost a lot of weight and went to the hospital several times. Secretary Liu, President Ming really hasn’t had it easy. She’s so good to you; you should give in to her more.”

“Okay, okay.”

As she was about to get off work, a call from an unknown number came in. Liu Ran answered without thinking.

A hesitant female voice came through the receiver: “Is this Liu Ran’s phone?”

“It is.”

“Ranran, I’m Zhu Xinghan. I was afraid I had the wrong number. You haven’t been to class these past two days, and I was worried something happened to you, so I’m checking in. Are you okay?”

Liu Ran didn’t know where Zhu Xinghan got her phone number.

Usually, she would even listen to a telemarketing call for thirty seconds before hanging up. Since Zhu Xinghan was also showing concern, she felt it would be rude to hang up directly. “I’m fine. The company is busy, so I’ve taken leave from school.”

“Where are you? I have something I want to tell you in person,” Zhu Xinghan pleaded.

Liu Ran hadn’t even sorted out her own affairs. She avoided Zhu Xinghan at school, so it was even more impossible for her to meet her privately during work hours. It wasn’t entirely because she was afraid of Ming Siyu; she herself felt that meeting Zhu Xinghan didn’t have much meaning.

“Tell me over the phone. I’m quite busy right now.”

There was a pause on the other end, and Liu Ran heard the sound of a car door closing.

“Alright then. It’s like this: I’m about to graduate and have already been confirmed to join the city ballet troupe. Next week I have a performance at the City Theater; it’s my first official stage performance at a city-level theater and the most important performance of my life. I want to invite you to be my audience. Can you come? I’ll set aside tickets for you in advance.”

Liu Ran couldn’t say for sure. She wasn’t certain if she would have the time.

While she was thinking, Zhu Xinghan continued in a consultative tone: “If you mind being alone, you can bring your friends or colleagues. I can set aside several tickets.”

Liu Ran felt a bit sad hearing this. Zhu Xinghan always seemed somewhat humble in front of her, just like she was in front of Ming Siyu. She also couldn’t understand why Zhu Xinghan wouldn’t let go of her; she wasn’t so good that people should find her unforgettable.

But she couldn’t make a promise for something she couldn’t confirm. “I’ll contact you if I can go. But I most likely won’t be able to make it; don’t waste the tickets, give them to someone else.”

Zhu Xinghan said stubbornly, “It’s okay, even if you don’t come, I’ll still set aside tickets for you.”

After hanging up, Liu Ran felt very tired.

She knew she 99% wouldn’t be able to go, so she didn’t take the matter to heart. She forgot about it after finishing an assessment data check with a colleague.

When she got home, Qi Zhen was not there. Ming Siyu said she had business at the old family residence and would be back tomorrow.

Qi Zhen had finished cooking before she left. Liu Ran brought out the dishes one by one, reheating the cold ones, and called Ming Siyu to come and eat.

She intentionally avoided contact with Ming Siyu.

Every time she looked at Ming Siyu, the panic in her heart grew a bit more.

Secretary Lin had told her quite a few “stories” about Ming Siyu.

Ming Siyu was very ruthless in her work and didn’t have much morality; she had done many rough but effective things. Especially when the company was just starting out; she only gradually mellowed later. Ming Siyu was already more than familiar with the whole “threats and bribes” routine. Now that the company was large and stable, she just couldn’t be bothered to do it anymore, which is why Liu Ran hadn’t seen the tactics she used in the business world.

When Secretary Lin spoke, she was very admiring, saying Ming Siyu was like a social boss who had a hand in both the underworld and the straight world, particularly cool.

Liu Ran silently weighed it; the threats against Shen Yunhe that Ming Siwei mentioned were absolutely something Ming Siyu was capable of.

Being barred from ever directing a movie again and from ever entering the film-related industry was equivalent to cutting off Shen Yunhe’s source of income. For Shen Yunhe, who was already in desperate need of money, it was a devastating blow. Shen Yunhe was originally ecstatic about joining The Glass Sea Has No Echo crew, thinking it would bring a turning point for herself and her family, but she never imagined it would be the beginning of everything spiraling downward.

At this moment, the woman sitting in front of her eating unhurriedly had done such a thing to her mother. Perhaps Ming Siyu had even forgotten that a person like Shen Yunhe existed.

Even when Ming Siwei mentioned Shen Yunhe, she was just as nonchalant. Shen Yunhe was merely an insignificant small pebble on their career path. If the road was uneven, use it to pave it; if it didn’t pave well, then kick it away.

And she herself had been intimate with Ming Siyu, having done every absurd thing except for marking, and was still immersed in it, unable to pull herself away.

A wave of nausea churned in her stomach. Liu Ran could no longer bear it and ran to the bathroom to vomit.

Ming Siyu put down her chopsticks and followed close behind, asking with a frown: “What’s wrong with you, suddenly vomiting?”

Liu Ran gasped softly: “I’m fine, maybe I ate too fast.”

“Then rest for a bit and then eat some more.”

Liu Ran shook her head: “I don’t want to eat. My stomach is a bit uncomfortable; I want to go lie down for a while.”

Ming Siyu moved her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but swallowed the words back when they reached her lips. Without a word, she turned around with an expressionless face and went back to continue eating.

Liu Ran took off her coat and lay down under the quilt, closing her eyes. Cold sweat wouldn’t stop breaking out all over her body. As soon as she closed her eyes, the faces of Ming Siyu, Shen Yunhe, Bai Yu… the faces of several people played back and forth like a slideshow in front of her.

After a while, Ming Siyu pushed open the door carrying a glass of hot water. Someone sat down beside her. Liu Ran thought muddledly: The door is locked; how did Ming Siyu get in?

Then she sluggishly realized—oh, the door was sawed open by Ming Siyu with a chainsaw; now her room was in a state where anyone could enter at will.

Looking at Liu Ran’s pale face, Ming Siyu ultimately couldn’t bear to continue yesterday’s argument.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t an argument. An argument required both sides to fight and debate; she and Liu Ran were not that. It was her unilaterally venting her dissatisfaction, picking whatever words were harshest to say, and Liu Ran didn’t take the bait at all, ignoring her and giving her the cold shoulder.

She didn’t understand how things had suddenly turned out like this for no reason. She had thought the last part of her life could be finished somewhat perfectly; not much time was left, yet unexpectedly, a problem arose with Liu Ran.

This afternoon, Secretary Wen gave her a reply: besides attending classes normally at school, the only people who frequently appeared by Liu Ran’s side were Jian Huaici and Zhu Xinghan. Almost everyone in their department knew that Zhu Xinghan was pursuing Liu Ran, running all the way from the neighboring dance academy just to see her.

After a fruitless search for reasons—and even beginning to reflect on herself Ming Siyu finally found the answer to the problem: Liu Ran’s recent abnormal behavior was because of Zhu Xinghan.

Young girls not far apart in age, gentle and beautiful, a dance student with undeniable grace Liu Ran, a poor thing who had been locked in a lab for a long time and abused by her previous two masters, had missed her prime years from fifteen to nineteen. To suddenly be pursued, she was probably so giddy she was over the moon.

Ming Siyu naturally wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen. She had Secretary Wen find out about Zhu Xinghan’s recent activities. Since she had already warned Zhu Xinghan to stay away from Liu Ran and had also warned Liu Ran, and neither listened, then she couldn’t be blamed for being ruthless.

She swallowed it for now and didn’t tell Liu Ran. Looking at the pitiful way Liu Ran lay on the bed, she felt both helpless and pained. She was actually still feeling pained when Liu Ran treated her like this; if He Qiange found out, she would surely laugh her head off.

The palm holding the cup was red and itchy from the heat. Ming Siyu called out softly: “Liu Ran, lift the quilt.”

Liu Ran opened her eyes halfway, glanced at her, and tears flowed from the corners of her eyes. Her eyes were filled with complex emotions that were hard to decipher.

Since she didn’t move, Ming Siyu set down the cup, lifted the quilt with one hand, identified the position of Liu Ran’s stomach, and slipped the other hand in from the hem of her clothes. Her hot palm pressed against the cold, sweaty belly, and then the other hand was placed on top as well.

As Ming Siyu helped warm her stomach, she asked: “Is it like this? Is this how you warmed mine last time?”

Liu Ran’s nose felt sour, and her tears began to flow like an opened sluice gate. Her mind was in even more of a mess. Why didn’t Ming Siyu scold her? Why didn’t she continue to order her around? Why didn’t she continue to say harsh words to her?

Why did she have to warm her stomach like a mother?

Rationality told her she should take those two hands off her stomach now. But she craved that warmth, obsessively attached to it in pain and regret, unable to act for a long time.

Ming Siyu was a cup of sugar-coated arsenic.

One more minute. One last minute. Liu Ran found reasons and excuses for herself over and over. When Ming Siyu felt her hands were cold, she would take them out to hold the cup. After the heat of the hot water was conducted to her palms, she would pass it on to Liu Ran, repeating this until the water in the cup was no longer hot.

She wiped Liu Ran’s tears: “Is it worth it? To be moved to this extent.”

Liu Ran sobbed: “It’s not that…”

Ming Siyu felt something was wrong. After warming her stomach for a long time, not only did Liu Ran show no sign of improvement, but her face grew even paler, and her forehead and palms were covered in cold sweat, yet her body temperature was on the high side.

Liu Ran had her eyes closed and looked like she was about to faint.

Ming Siyu hurriedly called a doctor to the house. The final diagnosis was acute gastroenteritis. Liu Ran curled up into a ball on the bed, clutching her stomach. Medicine was prescribed and taken. After seeing off the doctor, Ming Siyu sat by the bed and sighed.

What a mess. She had a stomach full of fire with nowhere to vent, and now she had to take care of a patient.

She took off Liu Ran’s clothes, wiped her down casually with a wet towel, and put on her pajamas. While being wiped, Liu Ran had a look of embarrassment on her face, her tail tucked between her legs and her private parts covered with her hands, sobbing as if she were being molested.

Ming Siyu was too lazy even to rub her hands to generate heat, choosing to use hot water to warm them directly. It was her first time serving someone, and she was exhausted. Liu Ran was heavy as lead; several times Ming Siyu wanted to give her a few slaps to wake her up so she could change her clothes herself.

Finally having tucked Liu Ran back under the quilt, Ming Siyu was gasping for breath. She collapsed onto the bed, lifted the quilt again, and crawled in.

“Make room. I’m sleeping with you.”

Liu Ran whimpered softly: “I don’t want to.”

Ming Siyu said fiercely: “I am notifying you, not consulting you.”

Liu Ran cried again, sobbing in bursts: “I really don’t want to sleep with you.”

She wanted to be far away from Ming Siyu.

But the body pressed against her back was also so warm, so soft, and so comfortable.

For a split second, Liu Ran hated herself more than she hated Ming Siyu.

“If you don’t want to sleep with me, who do you want to sleep with?”

Liu Ran answered in a low voice: “I want to sleep by myself.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

Ming Siyu was very tired. She was finding it easier and easier to feel exhausted, completely unable to control it. She thought she would be so tired that she’d fall asleep immediately with her face against Liu Ran’s back, but she once again suffered from insomnia.

After a while, Liu Ran woke up in her sleep, turned over, and shared the same pillow with Ming Siyu, face to face.

A desk lamp had been left on before sleep. Ming Siyu could clearly see Liu Ran’s face, including the fine down on her skin and her gentle breathing.

Liu Ran gazed at her with open eyes. Whether it was natural or caused by the arctic wolf genes, Liu Ran’s pupil color was lighter than average. When the light shone on them at an angle, they looked like translucent glass beads—fragile.

They gazed at each other for over ten seconds like this; neither spoke.

Then, two tears flowed from Liu Ran’s eyes respectively. One fell into the pillow, and the other gathered on the bridge of her nose, forming a tiny lake of tears.

Ming Siyu lost herself for a moment. Coming back to her senses, she was just about to ask Liu Ran why she was crying again when she was sleeping so well, but before she could speak, Liu Ran suddenly looked up, propped up her upper body, leaned toward her face, and tremblingly kissed the corner of her mouth.

Tears fell onto her lips. Ming Siyu licked them—salty.

After kissing, Liu Ran lay down near the curve of her neck, her head resting against her chin. Ming Siyu heard a nasal sob: “Ming Siyu, could you be a bit worse to me… no, be very bad to me…”

Halfway through her sentence, she fell into a heavy sleep, sniffing every now and then in her dreams.

Ming Siyu stroked the fluffy head in her embrace, thinking that Liu Ran wasn’t sick, her head had been kicked by a donkey.

When Liu Ran opened her eyes, she found herself lying in Ming Siyu’s embrace. The mole on the other’s collarbone was right before her eyes; she could kiss it if she leaned in just a bit.

Like a small beast seeking warmth, searching for a reassuring haven.

Unknowingly, relying on Ming Siyu had become an instinct. When she fell asleep and lost consciousness, she proactively leaned toward Ming Siyu’s side.

She was suddenly very grateful that Ming Siyu had always refused to mark her. Now, pulling out her feelings for Ming Siyu was just pulling a thorn from her heart; if the marking were completed, it would probably be equivalent to carving out her heart and throwing it into a juicer.

When Liu Ran moved, Ming Siyu woke up too.

Her morning voice carried a hint of raspiness: “Liu Ran, have you betrayed me?”

Liu Ran’s throat felt so choked it was painful.

“No.”

Ming Siyu heard this, smiled, and said while getting out of bed: “People who betray me end up regretful. I hope you won’t be one of them.”

Last night’s muddled tenderness was as if it had never existed.

Liu Ran guessed that Ming Siyu must have discovered something and certainly realized that a problem had arisen between them. Having broken away from the established mode of interaction, Ming Siyu felt unaccustomed and would find a way to get back on track as soon as possible. The reason she hadn’t acted yet was likely that she hadn’t found enough evidence to cause an explosion.

So the scales of the relationship were still in a delicate balance, waiting to tip.

Liu Ran began looking for a new nursing home, one further from A-City. Her mind was in a mess, and she didn’t know what the optimal solution was.

Several more days passed in this muddled, lackluster way. Ming Siyu hadn’t fought with her much again; there was a strange coolness between them. Even Qi Zhen noticed something was wrong; this time was different from the previous conflict-ridden disputes. On the surface, it looked somewhat harmonious—harmonious enough to be suffocating.

Qi Zhen categorized it as a cold war.

Shortly after the filming base was officially put into use, an unexpected situation occurred. An actor was injured during filming, and it was said to be caused by sub-standard building materials. Secretary Lin thought that since President Ming had instructed her that it would be best for Liu Ran to experience all sorts of things to practice her skills, she proposed that Liu Ran go and resolve this dispute.

Liu Ran booked a flight for early Saturday morning. Knowing that she was currently not on very good terms with Ming Siyu, Secretary Lin proactively offered to help report her itinerary. Liu Ran wasn’t sure when Secretary Lin actually told Ming Siyu, but since Ming Siyu didn’t say she wasn’t allowed to go, she took it as Ming Siyu agreeing.

It would be good to leave for a few days. Changing to a place far from Ming Siyu to sort out her thoughts—maybe she would find a way out.

On Friday afternoon, Ming Siyu sent Liu Ran the address of a restaurant, calling her to go for dinner together.

The restaurant was on the top floor of the Century Plaza, and the window seat Ming Siyu booked overlooked the night view of the entire A-City. Liu Ran found the food tasteless and was lacking in interest. Ming Siyu’s mood, on the other hand, seemed good; she poured Liu Ran a small half-glass of red wine, picked up her glass, and clinked it. “Xiao Ran, there’s been some unpleasantness between us lately, but I believe this not-so-beautiful period is about to pass.”

Was Ming Siyu proactively smoothing over the relationship? Lowering her head and making a concession for her?

Liu Ran had never seen Ming Siyu act like this toward anyone. Making Ming Siyu proactively show goodwill was harder than climbing to heaven. For a time, her heart was even more filled with mixed emotions.

Why couldn’t it be someone else? Why did it have to be Ming Siyu and Shen Yunhe?

After dinner, Ming Siyu was in no hurry to return. She took her by the hand and walked to a nearby theater, saying she was treating her to a ballet performance.

“Last time you only saw half of Giselle; today we’ll make up for it. You must watch it properly,” Ming Siyu said.

Ming Siyu took her straight to a seat in the middle of the front row. It was very close to the stage close enough to see the texture of the dark red curtains.

There were only the two of them in the entire theater; it was quiet. Liu Ran initially thought they were early, but after waiting a while and seeing no one else arrive, her suspicion grew: “Is it the wrong showtime?”

“No. It starts in a few minutes.”

At eight o’clock sharp, the house lights dimmed, the curtains rose, the stage lights came on, and the music started. The ballet officially began, and the audience still consisted of only the two of them.

Liu Ran suddenly remembered that phone call she had forgotten.

Zhu Xinghan. Next week. City Theater.

The background of the first act was a beautiful riverside forest, where the beautiful and simple Giselle rejected the forest warden who loved her. Without the heavy stage makeup from The Nutcracker, Liu Ran saw at a single glance that the performer for Giselle was Zhu Xinghan. Zhu Xinghan danced mechanically on the stage, her smile so stiff that Liu Ran felt she would cry in the next second.

At this moment, Ming Siyu turned back, showing a smile so beautiful it was almost cruel.

“Watch closely. I bought all the tickets; I’ve rented out the entire place.”

In an instant, Liu Ran felt a chill through her whole body.

She stood up with a start.

The lights shifted, casting dancing shadows on Ming Siyu’s face.

“Ming Siyu, you—”

Ming Siyu elegantly adjusted her glasses, her gaze cold and sharp like the fangs of a snake.

“Sit down. Otherwise, she’ll have to finish dancing for just me alone.”

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